Life in Blue City
by Karumeru
Summary: "Life in Blue City is tough. But we get by, somehow." Warning: Yaoi. ZoSanLu three way, but predominantly Zosan. Sex, drugs and rock and roll.
1. Chapter 1

**Zoro**

Life in Blue City is tough. It's stuffy in the summer, freezing in the winter, there's too many people, too many crimes, too many lost and loveless. But we get by, Luffy and me. We rent a flat at the edge of East Blue, right next to the Grand Line. Luffy's idea. He says we can go anywhere from there. The Grand Line runs right through the city, passing all the places we ever need to go to: The shopping district, the Dojo, several of Luffy's workplaces, even the airport if I ever need to catch a quick flight home. Anywhere. Just hop on a train, and you're there. No need to walk down any roads, which is perfect for me. I don't like roads, too confusing.

Of course, the rent is expensive. It is a nice place after all, and a nice neighbourhood. Well, almost nice neighbourhood. This part of East Blue is rumoured to be the Foxy Gang's territory. I've heard a lot of things about them. Terrible stories. Not enough to scare me. If Luffy says we'll live here, we'll live here. That's how it's always been. Luffy decides, and I follow.

But that doesn't mean I'll always like his decisions. I'm not talking about the flat anymore. I admit, I was a bit iffy over that, but it's settled now. We've lived there comfortably for a year, survived a broken pipe flooding and no heating for whole month in the winter. But it's become home.

Well, until the rent shot up by a hundred Belli. Now it feels a little less like home. We were just about getting by with how it was before. But, as usual, Captain Luffy has a solution to this problem.

"Let's get another room mate!"

I watch him sip happily from his drink like a two year old. Sakura bubble tea. His favourite whenever we eat out at HyuFung's.

"I didn't think about that."

It wouldn't be too hard to get another housemate, we have an extra room. I don't know why Luffy decided to rent out a two bedroom flat. He always ends up sleeping in my bed. For a moment, I think he planned it all, predicting the rise in the rent before it happened. But then I look at the hard, concentrated scrunch he's wearing on his face as he struggles to suck out the tapioca pearls in his drink, straw hat nearly slipping off the back of his head.

I try not to laugh. "Wouldn't it be a little weird with the way things are?"

I know there aren't many people left in the world nowadays who have anything to say against a couple like me and Luffy. But even other couples would find our relationship a little strange. I don't really care what Luffy does with himself, and with whom. It's his business. It's never bothered me too much. That's probably how I ended up being with him, letting him in so easily.

It's kind of a non-verbal open relationship with us. There are too many people in the world who love Luffy and want him for their own. That Nami girl who lives downstairs, other girls from his workplace who have unwittingly come over many times for dinner hoping to get it somewhere, and probably other guys I don't know about. I can't blame them. I want him too.

"Luffy," I try to catch his attention. He glances at me, tongue stuck in the wide straw, trying to reach a ball of tapioca stuck halfway up it. "Who's gonna want to live with us?"

I try to fight a tiny bubble of jealousy I can feel rising in my chest. Flat mate means intimate for Luffy. There are no boundaries between people who live under the same roof. That's what he told me when I decided to live with him.

Luffy grins. Then I see it. His wide, confident smile, the blush in his cheeks…

"You've already found someone you like," I say. He laughs, long and loud. I missed that look when he made it for me. Now I'm seeing him make it for someone else. For a moment, I feel dread, jealousy, anger, then I push it all away.

"He's a cook," He says, with such a happy tone in his voice.

Of course it would be a cook, but a he? Another he. I grit my teeth and glance out the window, trying to quell the queasiness tightening my chest. It's not good. I can't be so selfish. It's a good idea. Luffy's idea.

"He needs to move out of his old place," says Luffy, breaking my thoughts. "I said he could look at the spare room in our flat."

Simple as that. It's always been Luffy's style. Nothing is ever complicated for him. I sigh and finish the last drop of my sake, just as the waitress hands us our bill. If it's what Luffy wants to do…

"When's he coming to see the flat?"

* * *

**Sanji**

I'm ranting again. The fucking chefs, the fucking customers, the fucking ethics in this shithole.

"And you'd think the shitty waiters would show a little fucking shred of manners to us cooks," I add. "We have to make their fucking food too, you know?"

I know I should stop, but I can't. All he does is sit there and listen, this guy with the straw hat. Doesn't complain, doesn't look away, just listens like he's genuinely interested. We do this every Thursday. He comes in for lunch at the same time I finally get allowed a fucking break. I always make his food, take it out to him and sit with him. I hate the other fucking cooks in this shitty restaurant. No ambition, no passion, I'd rather sit with a complete stranger.

"I hate this shitty place."

I don't know why I feel so comfortable telling him everything. I take one look at that innocent face, and I just wanna spill it all out, even things I would never want to bring up again.

"Why don't you quit?" His answer comes out so simple. It startles me to hear his voice.

I clench my fist. "I can't quit, idiot. I'm already behind on my fucking rent, and it's taking everything just to pay the shitty bills." I regret my words immediately. I didn't mean to sound angry to him. It's not his fault. But I needed to let off some steam, I guess. I fumble in my pocket and light a smoke. I don't even care if the boss sees me.

I feel relief when the straw hat guy smile at me, like he sympathizes with my problems, and carries on eating the soba I made him. The look on his face when eats is the same as the kids we get at the restaurant. All big, wide eyes and stupid, careless smile. But I like _his_ look. Even the shitty head chef would never show any gratitude for the fucking effort and heart I put into my food. But he does, this nameless, straw hat wearing guy.

"I'm sure you wouldn't have any trouble finding another job, Sanji-kun," he tells me. "You're a great cook."

I sigh. "Do you know how many jobs I've had for the whole eleven years I've lived here in this city?"

He shakes his head, noodles dangling over the bottom of his chin, like he's some kind of sea monster. I smile. "Thirteen."

I'm greeted with the same reaction I always get. Widening eyes, a short, questioning hum.

"I got kicked out of my last job for smoking in the kitchens," I continue. "The job before that because I kept hitting on my manager, or so she said, and the job before that for beating up a customer."

Straw hat laughs. "You beat up a customer?"

I can't help but smirk. "He kept sending back his food to the kitchen, saying it was too hot, or too cold, or too much salad, or not enough dressing. I got pissed and kicked him in the face."

I lost straw hat guy in a fit of laughter. It's infectious and I find myself chuckling with him. "I've been working at this restaurant for six months now. That's the longest I've managed to hold a job here, so I'm not about to quit. No matter how much I fucking hate it."

"Maybe you just have a little bad luck at the moment."

"A little?" I shake my head. "It's always been this way. I may be the best chef in Blue City, but I'm about as lucky as a fucking black cat under the full moon on a Friday the thirteenth."

Straw hat laughs again, clutching his belly with one hand and pounding the table with the palm of his other. The sound of his laughter shakes my bones. "Maybe I just need to find a cheaper place to live." I think aloud.

Straw hat perks up at that. "You looking for a place?"

I shrug.

He places the chopsticks down on the side of the bowl then and folds his hands under his chin. "We have a spare room in my flat."

We? I raise a brow. He answers my thoughts like he's reading my mind. "Me and my flat mate, Zoro. He's a Kendo Instructor."

"Kendo, huh?" I say and take long, slow drag from my cigarette.

It would be nice to live somewhere cheaper. North Blue is so damn expensive, and being on my own, the rent and bills are a lot harder to pay. I think about seeing straw hat guy's face every time I come home from work. That grin, that infectious laughter. It might not be a bad trade.

He stares intently at me. Clearly I've gone too long without answering. I stub my cigarette on my empty coffee cup.

"Where do you live?"

Straw hat grins, pushing aside his empty soba bowl. "At the end of East Blue. Really close to the Line, so you can still make it to work. It'll be great living with you. You can cook for us!"

I smile, kicking his legs under the table lightly as I stand, collecting our dishes. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, I haven't even seen the place yet." Balancing the plates on my arms, I start to make my way to the kitchen. "Leave your address and phone number at the bar. I'll give you a ring when I'm free to check out the place."

"Okay!" He chirps brightly. That's the last I hear of him before I disappear into the kitchen. I realize I've agreed to the whole deal and I don't even know his name, or anything else about him besides the fact he always wears that weird straw hat and likes his soba with extra pork. Fortunately, he leaves his name with his details in reception. Monkey D. Luffy. I smile. Maybe my luck is finally starting to look up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Zoro**

After a morning jog, I do two hundred push-ups, two hundred and fifty sit-ups, three hundred one-arm handstands and thirty minutes of horse squats. I usually do more but there isn't enough time until Luffy's cook gets here. It's a shame, because I'd like to do more. I need the physical exertion right now to work off my nerves.

Not that I'm nervous or anything for this potential new flatmate. I just feel fidgety for some reason. Nothing at all to do with this cook.

"Okay, see you soon!" I hear Luffy click off his cell. He flops down beside me on the couch, leaning his head on my lap. I ruffle his hair. "Sanji's on his way," he says.

Sanji. I run the name over and over again in my head, building up a picture in my mind. Tall? Short? Maybe the same size as Luffy. Dark hair, curly. Very local looking. Small, dark eyes. Maybe blue eyes? But that's not very local. My head starts to hurt so I stop thinking about it.

"Should we clean up a bit?" I ask, running my fingers through Luffy's dark, thick hair and watching it feather back into place.

Luffy hums. "It's not that bad, is it?"

I look around the flat. There's a lot of empty packets of food and cans around the living room, and a stack of unwashed plates in the sink in the kitchen. I crane my neck further to see the rest of the kitchen behind me. The bin is overflowing and I remember that I forgot to empty it the other day.

I glance back down at Luffy. "We want him to want to live here, right?"

Luffy groans and turns in the couch. "You do it."

I chuckle, lean over and kiss him on the forehead before getting up to do the bin. Luffy watches me as I move around the living room, picking up litter.

"You're nervous, aren't you?" he asks.

I smirk. Have I become that readable? I tell myself that it's Luffy and he knows me better than anyone. But before I can answer him, our buzzer goes off.

Luffy jumps up, energetic, face all lit up. My stomach lurches as he runs for the intercom and presses the button. I fight down the rising jealousy again. I wonder if he ever got this excited to see me during our early days.

I quickly tidy up as much as I can and I get the living room pretty much neat by the time we hear a knock on the door. When I turn to the kitchen to fill up the newly emptied bin, I realise that maybe I should've cleaned this side first, seeing as the new guy's a cook and all.

"Sanji! Welcome!" I hear Luffy's hearty laugh at the door.

"Sorry I'm late," answers a voice, low and smooth. "I missed my fucking train."

The thick scent of cigarette smoke reaches me. I turn and finally come face to face with this cook person. Tall, slender, long-legged with blonde-hair and bright blue eyes. Nothing like how I pictured him at all.

Our gazes lock, he smiles at me with his cigarette dangling at the corner of his mouth. My chest tightens and I hold my breath to try and calm the flips in my gut. I clench my fists behind me and lean back on the counter. The air thins around me. I don't like it.

* * *

**Sanji**

"This is Zoro." Luffy introduces me to the man in the kitchen. The first thing I notice is his hair. Green? Like a marimo. I bite my cigarette to stop myself from laughing. I wonder why he dyes is like that? The rest of him looks exactly like how I pictured a kendo instructor. Broad shouldered, muscular arms and a stern, strict glare.

I put on my best smile and greet him with a nod. "Hey."

He doesn't say or do anything. He watches me for moment, a lot like a house cat would watch a mouse before deciding whether or not to kill it. Then he simply walks away from us and into the living room. I feel a chill in the pit of my stomach as he passes. Did I do something wrong?

I lean close to Luffy. "Doesn't talk much, does he?"

Luffy laughs and takes my coat. "Come in, come in," he tugs my arm excitedly and starts to show me around the flat. The first room he pulls me into is the kitchen, which would've been a good move if it isn't in such a state.

Luffy gestures happily to the un-wiped dining table, the overflowing bin, the stack of washing up still left to be done in the sink. I sigh inwardly and try my best to hide my frown. I move around, keeping to the positives. It's a big kitchen and I could already picture myself cooking in it. I hover over the stove. Supressa, good make, efficient. But it doesn't look like it's used much, which is a waste. I stop in front of a thick magnetic strip on the wall.

"A knife magnet," I say, nodding in approval. Even my old flat didn't have a knife magnet. I move to fridge. "Do you mind?"

"Go ahead."

I open the door and alarm bells go off in my head. The fridge is empty, save for a few bottles of sake and some ready-meals. It was enough to convince me to move in straight away. These two clearly need some proper nutrition.

"It's a big kitchen." I say, closing the fridge door. Luffy beams at me, convinced that it's won me over. He leads me to the living room. As soon as we get near, Luffy's moss-headed kendo flat mate gets up and moves back to the kitchen. Luffy doesn't seem to notice it, but I can tell he's avoiding me. I feel a bitter taste build up at the back of my mouth.

As Luffy talks about how big the flat is and how hard it is to heat up during winter or whatever, my thoughts slip to that marimo bastard. Perhaps he didn't agree to getting a new flat mate in the first place and is now sulking like a two-year-old. Nothing a batch of freshly baked cookies can't solve. But it still pisses me off. What the fuck did I do to the guy?

"Ready to see your room?" Luffy distracts me.

I study his happy grin. The anxiety I felt building up before melts away. That'll be enough for me to bear living here I guess. Even if fucking marimo turns the air sour with his hardened look.

The last room Luffy shows me is the spare bedroom. They chose a good room. Very spacious. It's already furnished with a bed, wardrobe and all the other shit you get in a bedroom, and it's close to the kitchen. This is it. This is where I want to live.

When Luffy takes me back to the kitchen, I see Marimo preparing three cups of tea and some store-bought biscuits on the table. I'm ready to take back everything I thought about him, when I take a sip from my tea.

"Hmm, a little weak," I say without thinking. I catch him glaring at me from across the kitchen. Maybe I shouldn't have been too honest.

Luffy sits down opposite me and breaks the tension with that natural jolly air he has about him. "What do you think?"

"I like it," I say, stubbing my cigarette on the saucer my teacup was on. I feel the heat of Marimo's anger from where I'm sitting and I regret my actions immediately. God, why does he make me feel so tense about everything? "When can I move in?"

Luffy happily takes me through the details of rent, bill payments and any house rules, which didn't seem like there were any. All the while Marimo sits on the other end of the table and burns a hole through me with his fierce stare. I try not to let it bother me.

Two smokes and another cup of tea later, which is a little too strong this time and I assume it's out of spite from my earlier comment, the contract is signed, deposits paid and all I have left to do is move in on Monday.

Luffy stands by the door as I slip on my coat. He hands me the key to the flat. "I guess we'll see you on Monday?"

"Sure, flat mate." I give him a wink, slipping the key onto my breast pocket.

He holds the door open for me. "Do you need a hand moving your stuff?"

"I should be fine. I have a friend who lives in this area, says he's free to help."

I turn back to the kitchen before I leave. Marimo is starting on the washing up.

"I'll see you on Monday, Marimo."

He doesn't turn around, but I see the back of his head bob a little. Was that a nod? I sigh and give Luffy's wide grin another glance before turning into the hallway.

"Bye, Sanji!"

I hear the door click shut behind me before I light another cigarette on my way out. What was with that fucking greenhead? What did I do? Despite my best efforts to feel happy about finally having a place, and it being with straw hat too, I couldn't shake that fucking shitty bastard from my mind. How can I possibly cope living with that guy? I watch cigarette smoke steam from lips as a I sigh. Maybe it won't be so bad. First impressions can be misleading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Zoro**

I nearly drop a mug when Luffy pounces on me in the kitchen.

"Careful!" I yell, trying to set it to one side. It's hard with Luffy's arms wrapped tight around me. I feel his breath warm a spot on my back as he presses his face against me.

"Well?" His voice comes out muffled "What do you think?"

I struggle to find an answer. "Of what?"

"You know what," He laughs. His breath tickles. I wriggle loose and go back to the dishes.

What do I think of him? What do I think of the shitty cook you admire so much? Of the perfectly slender, smooth talking, blonde-haired bastard who just waltzed in here, insulting my tea and filling the air with smoke?

I focus my thoughts. Blot out the negatives. "He wasn't impressed with the kitchen, " I mutter.

I hear the scrape of a chair as Luffy sits down behind me. "Really? I thought he said he liked it."

"He was being polite," I mumble. Why do I feel so negatively towards him? Whatever it is, I'll have to push it out of my mind. Luffy likes him, so I'll have to as well.

"I guess it would be nice to have a cook around." I force.

Luffy snaps it up anyway, smiling blissfully. "You two will get along."

And as soon as he says it, I know it'll happen. Like everything else he says with such conviction.

I take a deep breath and look over my shoulder at him. "The air's gonna be a lot smokier with him around."

"We could always open a few windows."

"Why are you always so positive?"

"Why are you so negative?" He mocks, imitating my voice.

I narrow my eyes at him. Luffy pulls a face and I can't resist splashing him with water from the sink.

"Hey!" He grabs a mug and dips it in the water, retaliating with a bigger splash. Before I can get him back, he retreats to the living room, laughing like a maniac and spilling water everywhere. I fill up another mug and run after him.

In the middle of our water fight, I begin to wonder if we'll still have moments like this when the shitty cook moves in. I dread the thought of loosing Luffy completely to him. As I lay on the living room floor next to the idiot himself, giggling between gasps for breath, I struggle to bring my thoughts to words.

"I'll miss this," I manage to mutter.

I hear Luffy shift to face me. "What do you mean?"

I hold in a sigh and pick myself up from the floor, collecting the mugs that are miraculously still intact. I answer him with a shrug.

He laughs. "We can still play. It'll be more fun because Sanji'll be here."

I scowl. "What makes you think he'll join in? He looks like a killjoy."

"Don't worry, he'll be fun." And with that, the topic drops.

Monday comes around like a weighted arrow. Luffy 'conveniently' forgets than he has an early shift at his cleaning job today. So I'm left in the flat on my own. On my own to greet that shitty cook and help him move in. I sit on the couch with my head slung over the back as I glare at the ceiling. The thought of going out for a while until Luffy gets home crosses my mind many times. So much so that I get close enough to standing at the door, keys in my hand.

Damn it. I hate this. I close my eyes and the image of Luffy's smile burns in my mind. I take a deep breath and turn back to face the rest of the flat. I should try to get along with the guy at least. For Luffy.

I don't have time to think about much else. I the cook's smooth, smoky droll muffling through the door, accompanied by a voice I don't recognise. I move to the spare room that will soon be filled with his crap. The lock on the door clicks open.

I turn to meet eyes with the cook. My chest tightens again. I clench my fists at my sides. His curly eye-brow lifts slightly when he sees me

"Marimo?" he says. What's with that nickname? As he looks around the rest of the flat, I get a glimpse of his friend behind him. A shrewd looking man, with thick, curly, black hair and an incredibly long nose.

The cook saunters in, struggling under the weight of a box in his arms. "Where's Luffy?"

"At work," my voice comes out like a growl, so I swallow my words. I move past him to his friend, taking the box from his hands.

"I'll help you with your boxes."

The long nosed man seems surprised, but lets me take his box. "Hey, thanks." He says. "I'm Usopp, by the way. I live a few streets down the road from here with my wife."

"Zoro," I introduce myself. I have a feeling if I don't interrupt this guy, he'd talk forever.

That didn't stop him though. As soon as I placed the cook's box in the living room and turned into the hallway, Usopp starts telling me his entire life story. I glance over my shoulder before I leave the flat and catch the cook slamming his box down on the kitchen table, fumbling around his pockets for his cigarette with a scowl on his face. I swallow down guilt and head down the hall. Looks like getting along with this guy is going to be harder than I thought.

* * *

**Sanji**

Fucking marimo bastard. I fumble around my pocket for my light, biting another cigarette in my lips. He pisses me off so much. I take a long drag, filling my lungs with warm, spicy smoke before letting it all out in a thick haze. I'm instantly relaxed, but I can't shake the thought completely. Fucking marimo. What the fuck did I do? Sure I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but this guy didn't even give me a chance to be one.

I hear Usopp's squaky voice coming up the steps, along with marimo's grunts and hums of agreement. I start unpacking the box I've brought up. I hope Ussop is boring him to death. But when they appear around the doorway, they're both smiling. Zoro's quickly drops when he sees me though.

I bite harder on my cigarette. What the fuck is up with him? As if sensing the tension in the air, Usopp quickly breaks into the room.

"Hey, Sanji, where do you want these boxes?"

I turn and flash Usopp a friendly smile. Well two can play at this game. "Just stack them by the floor. I can unpack them later."

I stride past the two, towards the hallway, blowing a thick puff of smoke as I pass the green-haired bastard. "Don't mess those boxes up, marimo," I chide, dragging out his nickname.

He scowls. "I'll try not to, curlycue."

I narrow my eyes at him and he returns the glare before I disappear around the doorway. Looks like this won't be an easy game, but I always enjoy a challenge.

A few dozen boxes later, the flat looks a more like a store warehouse than a home. I'm at the door, biding goodbye to Usopp.

"Thanks for all the help again."

"Hey no problem," Usopp zips up his jacket and points a thumb at himself. "If you guys ever need anything, just give me a ring. I know I don't look it, but I'm the best handy man in town. Pipe bust or cooker broken, I'll fix it. Hey, you guys should come over for dinner sometime too. Kaya will be happy to have guests."

"I'd love to come over," I say, holding the door open for him. "I'll see if I can get Luffy and that damn marimo to come too."

Usopp laughs. "Alright. Nice to meet you, Zoro!" He calls in, before disappearing down the hall. Zoro gives him a nod. He hasn't said a word since I've been around.

When I close the door with a resounding click, the realisation of what I'm left with hits me. Shit. Maybe I should've made some coffee or something so Usopp could stay longer and break the silence.

I turn around, catch marimo's gaze before he opens the fridge and cracks open a can of beer. The hate is still burning in his eyes. I can tell. I light up another smoke, force myself to think calmly, play nice. He's my flat mate now. We'll have to come to some neutral ground if we're gonna share living space.

"Have you had lunch yet?" I break the silence hanging over our heads. I dig into one of the boxes I have opened on the table and start to pull out my pots and pans. "I brought some groceries before I came here. I can make something quick."

"I don't want anything," he says, walking towards his bedroom.

I grit my teeth. "Have you eaten though?" I could barely keep the anger from my voice.

"I said I don't want anything."

"That's beside the point." I start laying pans out. "You think, as a cook, I'll let you go unfed?"

He shrugs, eyes looking everywhere but at me. "Whatever. I'm not hungry."

He enters his room and shuts the door with a light thud behind him. I take a long drag and dig my nails into my palms. It's all I can do to stop myself from chasing him down kicking him in the head.

I turn back to all the boxes piled neatly around the place. Damn bastard didn't even offer to help unpack.


	4. Chapter 4

**Zoro**

Maybe I napped, maybe I didn't. All I know is I'm in my room for hours and it's dark when I snap out of my thoughts. I turn in bed, lying on my back. Outside, I can hear the cook shuffling boxes, muttering to himself. I smile when I hear a thud, scrape, and an audible 'ow' followed by muttered cursing.

The smile doesn't last when my thoughts start catching up to my consciousness. I ran away. I basically ran away and hid from a possible social situation with the cook. But I could feel the tension in the air from just being in the same room as him. If I stayed, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to hold back an argument. Yeah, that's it. It was better to give each other space for now. I didn't run, I just... sidestepped, dodged. That sounds better.

I sit up, breathing out a frustrated sigh. The cook was nice enough to offer me lunch this afternoon. Why can't I even be civil with him? I picture the cook, blonde-hair, slender, smiling… His arm around Luffy. My chest tightens and I scratch the thought from my head. Nothing good ever comes from just sitting still. I push myself out of bed and stretch, glancing over at my swords hung up on the wall. Now would be a good time to train, but after glancing at the clock I see I don't have time for that.

I leave the room, blinking at the bright lights of the living room. The cook is pushing a long box into his room. He smirks when he sees me.

"Finally coming out of your shell, marimo?"

I ignore him and head for the shower.

"Oi, you hungry yet?" he asks.

"I'm fine." I don't feel like eating right now.

"You haven't eaten since morning, right?"

I don't answer and shut the bathroom door behind me. In the shower, my thoughts are of Luffy. He'll be home soon, but not in time for me to catch him before I leave. A shudder passes my muscles at the thought of him alone with the cook. A feeling I try to ignore. This is the way things are now. I have to accept that.

I've never felt like this towards anyone else Luffy has been with before. Why him? Why the cook? As I turn off the water, a mouth-watering aroma seeps through the steam. In my walk from the shower back to my room, I catch him in the kitchen. Cooking. He doesn't even turn to acknowledge me, his eyes lost in his activity. I watch him a moment. It's the same look some of my students have. Concentration. Determination. Passion.

I change into my uniform quickly. When I enter the living room again, the shitty cook is serving two bowls of fried rice on the table. He raises a curly brow at me, eyeing my uniform.

"Where are you going?"

"Work." I say, slipping my jacket on.

"A kendo class? This late?"

"It's my other work."

He pats the table. "Well, at least eat before you go."

It feels more like a command than a suggestion. "I don't have time."

"Fine, you can take it with you." His hands move quickly, packing the rice into a small box and wrapping it in a small paper bag. He hands it to me.

"I'm not a fucking child, cook," I push the bag back into his hands.

"Don't talk to your elders like that," he mocks. His smirk turns into a scowl. "Just take the fucking bag, you damn Marimo."

"Don't call me that, fucking eyebrows."

His eye twitches. "What did you say?"

"I said your eyebrows look like curly mosquito repellents."

"So you can talk, fucking pot plant!"

"Question-mark-shaped brows, shitty cook!"

"Say anything about my eyebrows again, and I'll fucking drown you so you can be reunited with your marimo family at the bottom of a lake!"

I watch his shoulders rise and fall in heavy breathing. He shoves the bag in hands. "Just take it already!"

He turns around and starts on washing up. I grumble and leave, slamming the door behind me. What was all that? I feel like a two year old. That was probably the first time I called anyone names and bickered about nothing since I was two. I leave the flats, breathing in the cold night air deeply, letting it loosen the muscles in my chest. Something tells that'll probably happen again. I just hope we can at least keep it together around Luffy...

* * *

**Sanji**

I wasn't home alone for long. After a couple of hours of taking out my anger on crushing empty cardboard boxes, I hear the lock on the door click open.

"Sanji-kun!"

It's Luffy. I watch him strip off his coat and kick off his shoes, the stupid grin on his face loosening a knot between my shoulders.

"Hey," I greet him. All thoughts of shitty marimo now gone from my mind. "How was work?"

"Busy," He sighs, slumping down at the kitchen table like a deflated balloon. "Sorry I wasn't here to help you move in." He lifts his head to look around the flat. "Has Zoro gone?"

"He said he had work."

Luffy nods. "He works as a night guard sometimes at the mall. They only call him out when it's busy, but it pays more."

I raise a brow. "You two really scrape a living, huh?"

Luffy laughs. "We get by."

I butt out my cigarette in an ashtray I just unpacked. Rolling my sleeves up, I turn to the stove. "How about dinner?"

"Yes, I'm starving!"

As much as smoking calms me down, nothing really sets my mind straight as much as cooking. It's so easy to loose myself in my practice, even with an energetic, gangly limbed guy harping at me to finish quickly every five minutes. When I'm cooking, the world practically melts away around me, and it's just me and my ingredients. That's how it should be.

It doesn't take long, or at least I don't think it does, when I finally serve up some chicken dumpling noodles. Luffy wastes no time in tucking into it, appreciation showing in every inch of his face.

"Thus ish goodth, Thanji-kunth!" He speaks, noodles still hanging from his mouth.

I laugh. "Don't talk with your mouth full, idiot."

I watch him slurp down the noodles fervently. He really is hungry. It isn't long before I'm giving him seconds. It's a good thing I always cook more than I need to. I glance around the apartment. I've been unpacking all day, but there are still boxes stacked around, some half unpacked.

"Sorry about the place," I say.

Luffy swallows his mouthful before speaking this time. "That's ok. You should've seen it when me and Zoro first moved in. It took so long to unpack, we ended up making a box fort in the living room."

Box fort? That didn't seem like marimo to me. I hear his irritating voice bickering with me in my head from this afternoon.

"Are you sure it's ok for me to live here?" I ask. "Zoro doesn't seem too keen on me. I'm pretty sure he avoided me on purpose all afternoon."

Luffy shrugs it off like it's nothing. "That's just Zoro. He'll be wary of new things at first, but he'll get used to it. Kinda like a dog."

"Dog huh? You think I should give him treats to get him to like me more?"

Luffy laughs. "If it's treats you've made, I think he'll like you immediately. Your food's so yummy!"

I start listing out ingredients for almond cookies in my mind. I wonder what kind of flavours the marimo likes? With Luffy, it seems like he'll eat anything.

"Hey, I'm not working tomorrow," Luffy stands up and stretches. "If you want, me and Zoro can help you unpack."

"Tch. If you can get him to help. He's done nothing all day."

"He'll help." Luffy smiles at me confidently. For a second, I understand why. That smile will be enough to send a thousand armies to war.

I return his smile, light another cigarette. "If you say so."


	5. Chapter 5

**Zoro**

Another quiet, boring, night at work. But it's easy money I guess. When I get to the flat, I hear laughter behind the door. Luffy's up already? It's only eight in the morning. The smell of a cooked breakfast meets my nose, and I remember who else is in the flat.

I open the door, and there he is. Blonde haired bastard. He's stood behind Luffy, placing a cardboard box with holes cut out of it on Luffy's head. Luffy's body is covered in cardboard, making him look like a robot. The cook's smile fades when I walk in the door, and I feel like I've ruined their little game by just being here.

"Zoro!" Luffy's the only one grinning. "Look, look, I'm boxman!"

"Yes, I can see that." I slip off my jacket and shoes. No need to act tired, I already am. It's like my energy suddenly drains as soon as I get home. Luffy proceeds to move around the room like a robot, making robotic noises. I try to walk past them, but before I can get to my room, shitty cook stops me.

"Oi, marimo. Think maybe you could help us a little here?"

"I'm tired," I tell them. "I'm going to bed."

"Zoro," Luffy groans. I turn and see his pouting face. Maybe I shouldn't have. It's never fair when he uses that face.

I take a deep sigh. "Fine. But I've got kendo class later, so don't hold me up."

* * *

**Sanji**

It's remarkable. One look from Luffy and he bends like tree in the wind. I watch as he moves boxes from the living room to my room, opening them when I tell him to, or moving things out of the way. He has a habit for showing off his strength. Balancing two heavy boxes in each arm, when me and Luffy could barely cope with one. I can't work out whether or not he's doing this intentionally.

I couldn't even get him to eat yesterday. And yet here he is, packing boxes and moving my things, just like Luffy said he would. I study him as he chases Luffy around the living room, trying to get him to take off the boxes and work properly.

I feel like I'm intruding in their private space. It was all over marimo's face when he walked in and caught me playing with Luffy. It's like I've been caught cheating with someone's wife. I roll the thought over in my mind, watching Marimo wrestle a box from Luffy's arm. Could that be it? Marimo, with Luffy? Is that why he can't bare to have me around?

"Oi, twisty-brows," His growl of a voice breaks my thoughts. "Stop spacing out and sort your own stuff out."

"The fuck?" I blurt out. "Shut up about my eye-brows already, mossy."

"Make me, curly."

"I'll fucking mow that shitty lawn off your head with a rusty mower."

"You probably can't even lift a pair of hedge clippers with those skinny arms!"

"I'll fucking cut you up and use you as garnish, marimo bastard!"

Amidst our arguing, Luffy clutches his belly and rolls about the floor, laughing. It's hard to concentrate my anger on the fucking marimo when he's taking things so lightly.

"Why not go outside and photosynthesize, shitty green-head." I take some folded clothes into my room. I don't want to argue in front of Luffy.

"I could breathe better in here if the air wasn't so smoky, shitty cook."

I light another cigarette in front of his face. But I don't retaliate. He looks like he's about to yell more abuse at me, but a knock on the door stops us both.

"Luffy!" A woman's voice muffles through the door. "Oi, Luffy! Zoro!"

"Nami!" Luffy leaps up, a piece of cardboard still stuck around his chest.

When he opens the door, I look over to a see a girl standing at the doorway and smiling brightly. Cute, round face, orange hair, wearing fashionable clothes.

She furrows her delicate eyebrows sceptically at the boxes littering the room, and at the pieces still stuck on Luffy. "I thought I could hear you two playing around," Her eyes dart to me. "Oh? Who's this?"

"This is Sanji-kun, our new flat mate."

I gravitate to her side, drawn like a scarp of metal to a magnet. I take her hand in mine and throwing her the best smile I could muster. "Pleased to meet you, ma choux," I say, leaning in close.

The uneasy smile she tries to force on her face is not a new sight. A lot of women react that way to the affections I shower on them. It's always been that way, but it doesn't stop me. Women everywhere deserve to be praised and pampered!

Nami pulls away from me. "Pleased to meet you too, I guess." She stands a little distance from me before speaking comfortably. "I live downstairs with my sister. We have to cope with these guys making a racket, so I sympathise greatly for you living in the same flat with them."

"Sister huh?" I raise a brow. "Is she as beautiful as you are, mellorine?"

She laughs nervously. I feel a sharp tug at my shirt and turn to see marimo bastard dragging me away from Nami.

"Geez," he vents out through gritted teeth. "I didn't know we had to put a leash on you whenever we get visitors."

I shove him off me. "Oi, don't man-handle me like that!"

"You're scaring her, shitty ero-cook!"

"Drop the nick-names already, marimo bastard!"

"You drop it, lollipop brow!"

I hear Luffy's voice cut across the two of us. "Nami-san, would you like some tea?"

"Yes, alright. But I can't stay too long. I have to be at the office in a couple of hours to pick up some blueprints."

Luffy waves over at us. "Zoro! Zoro! Tea!"

"Alright, alright," Zoro stomps into the kitchen but I push past him.

"No way am I letting you make Nami-san your shitty weak tea! I'll do it."

I roll my sleeves up and put the kettle on. Luffy quickly me. "Senbei! Senbei! Sanji-kun, senbei!"

"Alright, already! I heard you the first time."


	6. Chapter 6

**Zoro**

"Tch," I reign in my anger, resort to aggressively piling up the flat-packed boxes for the recycling. Nami comes into the living room and sits on the couch behind me.

"So this Sanji guy…"

I shrug. "Luffy's new friend."

"He lives here now?"

"The rent went up, remember? It's just to make things easier for us."

I follow her gaze to the two in the kitchen. The shitty cook has Luffy in a playful headlock, trying to keep him from devouring all the senbei at once. I look back at Nami's face. I don't need to strain to read her expression. She sees Sanji as another guy she has to compete with. I don't blame her. I feel that way too.

I return to flat packing boxes. Shit-cook's behavior around Nami sure surprises me though. All this time I thought he was fond of Luffy. Maybe he's not that kind of guy. I want to feel relief and probably finally get along with some civility with him, but it doesn't come. Just more unsettling jealousy. Why? Isn't it enough to know he doesn't see Luffy the way I do?

"Nami-swan!" The cook waltzes in, heart-shapes in his eyes and a stupid grin on his face. "Your tea, my beautiful mellorine!"

He places a mug and a plate of senbei crackers on the coffee table.

Nami picks a cracker up. "This isn't the usual cheap stuff you guys buy."

Luffy slips beside her, his mouth full of crackers. "Sanji made them! He's a great cook. His food's the best!"

I make a loud thud as I practically stamp a box flat on the ground. Shouldering a stack of cardboard, I make for the door.

"Oi," shit-cook pipes up. "Your tea'll get cold."

"Piss off," I don't even try to control the anger in my voice. I leave the flat as quickly as I can, slamming the door as I go. Not looking back at anyone. Especially not Luffy. I don't want to see the disappointment in his face.

* * *

**Sanji**

"What's with him?"

I force my eyes from the door to Nami, taking a long drag from my cigarette.

"The cold season is a tense time for the delicate marimo," I joke. She stifles a giggle.

"Indeed," She continues. "One must remember to water their plants regularly for them to live happy lives." She gestures tipping a beer can back. I laugh. I like this girl already.

Luffy doesn't quite get the joke. "Hmm, he's probably just tired. He hasn't slept yet since he came back from work."

Nami frowns at him. "You guys work far too hard."

Work. I check my watch. "Shit! I have to go to work!"

I run into my room and hurriedly get dressed.

"So you're a workaholic too?" I hear Nami-san call to me from the living room. "Now I know why you live with these guys."

I run back into the living room, lean my face in close to Nami's. "So sorry for being rude, but I really must dash." I give her a wink before running to the door. "Don't wait up, Luffy!"

"Bye, Sanji-kun!"

His voice rings out even as I close the door behind me. When I turn down the hallway, I see marimo coming up the steps. He catches my eye, face sullen like he's about to kill someone. I really don't have time for this.

I thank whatever god is patient enough to watch over me still, as he doesn't say a word. And we pass each other like strangers, like we don't even live together. I bite my tongue. For a second, I want to turn around, shout some profanity at him. Anything. I don't.

As I leave the flats, the image of Zoro and Luffy wrestling in the living room surfaces from my memories. I hear Luffy's defence for Zoro's actions in my mind. Maybe they really are together. And I'm just come crashing in out of nowhere, messing things up for them.

I sigh. I'll talk to the marimo bastard tonight. Sort things out. I don't want to have to move out again after unpacking everything.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sanji**

Work was a shithole as usual, and I'm in tired relief by the time I return to the flats. Luffy wasn't wrong about the great location. I don't feel half as drained getting the Line back home, rather than walking all the way like I used to.

The flat is dark and quiet when I get in. I flick the lights on and a yellow note on the table catches my eye.

_"Night shift. Make me breakfast in the morning. Zoro is in."_

It's in Luffy's scribbly handwriting. My smile flickers as I jump from one sentence to marimo's name. I glance around the flat and see his bedroom door wide open. I decide to take a quick peek. It's surprisingly clean, considering how messy he leaves the rest of the house. Bed neatly made, desk clear and organised, even his shoes are stacked in pairs, side-by-side under his wardrobe. I recognise the clothes on the floor as Luffy's.

There are a few wall brackets above the desk that hold three katana. One red, one black, and one white. I poke the white one gently, smiling because I know this would probably get me killed by that green-haired demon.

The thought hits me. There's only one bed in the room he and Luffy share. I light a cigarette. So I was right in thinking they were together. Is that why Zoro's so edgy around me? I can't help but laugh a little at that. If it's that simple, the idiot's got nothing to worry about. I'm not looking for anything like that anyway. Not right now...

I glance out of the window at the twinkling lights of Blue City stretching out before me. _"Zoro is in." _The words of Luffy's note float in my mind. Where is the damn bastard then? I amble back into the living room. Did he duck out to try and avoid me again? Should I wait for him to get back? If he's avoiding me, he may not be back anytime soon. I hover in front of the stove in the kitchen. If I was trying to hide from an awkward social situation, where would I go? My eyes drift to the ceiling along with my thoughts. I remember seeing the fenced-off rooftop when I first came to see this place. Was the roof easy to get to?

Before I can think any further, I grab my jacket and head for the lifts. The door to the rooftop has a faded window, but I can already see Zoro's mossy head on the other side. A cold wind greets me as I step out, hugging my jacket tighter around me. Marimo is balanced on a metal barrel, doing one-handed headstand push-ups. The muscles on his back tense and flex as he continues to bob up and down. His rhythm falters a little. Must've heard me come in.

"How did I know you were gonna be up here, shitty marimo?" I say in greeting. He doesn't make a sound. Nothing but his deep, steady breathing as he carries on with his push-ups.

I light another cigarette and lean on the mesh wire surrounding the rooftop. My eyes hover over the other equipment around him. Makeshift equipment. A few barrels, some rusty buckets filled with rocks, bamboo poles slung with concrete on either end. Everything looks hand made aside from three shinai leaning side by side against the wire mesh.

In the silence that stretches between us, I wonder if I should've waited for him to finish and come back to the flat. It's too late for that now. He doesn't break his pattern, and doesn't look like he will anytime soon.

"You and Luffy are together, right?" I say with a sigh. Might as well get straight to the point. He doesn't answer me. I take that as a yes.

"Listen," I continue, trying to keep irritation out of my voice. "I don't... I'm not... I just needed a better place to live, and Luffy offered I share your flat. If that's what's got you so worked up, then you don't need to worry. I'm not butting into anything. I don't want to get involved in whatever."

He laughs, and it's such a rare sound that it stops me mid ramble. But I soon realise it held no humour. I drain the emotion from my face as I watch him flip from the barrel and onto his feet. He picks up a towel on the ground and wipes sweat from his face.

"Don't you get it?" His voice comes muffled under the towel. He turns to face me. In the darkness, I can't make out the expression on his face, but I can hear the condescending tone of his voice. "You're already involved."

I roll the words over in my head. "The fuck does that mean?"

He shakes his head, turns around and starts rolling the barrel to one side. I watch him quietly, letting frustration and annoyance boil inside me. He starts to put his other equipment away. Clearly the conversation is over in his head. I grit my teeth, take a step forward. He ignores me. I take another step. Still nothing. You had your chances.

I tense and in one fluid movement, drive a kick square at his head. Marimo turns just in time and blocks with his arm. But I can see the surprise in his eyes. Either he didn't expect me to move so quick, or didn't expect my attack to be that strong. He steps backwards, legs apart and arms held high. Defensive stance. I lunge again, holding nothing back. He blocks, dodges, parries, adjusting to my speed quicker than anyone I've fought before. He counters, throws a feint that nearly catches me. I leap onto my hands and circle my legs above me. I feel my heels connect, and flip back to my feet in time to catch the wince on the swordsman's usually stoic face.

I grin. He scowls. He runs to the side, towards his shinai. I try to stop him, but when I reach him, he blocks my crescent kick at the cross of his training swords. The creak of leather on wood breaks the tense silence in the air. Our eyes lock, and I try to read the expression on his face. It's... calm. Focused. I could tell there was nothing else on his mind right now but our fight. He grunts, breaking my thoughts. He shoves me away with the shinai, and all of a sudden it's me who's dodging for their life.

I can feel the whoosh of air as he swings at me, arcing and thrusting. They're not hard to dodge, until he realises he's gonna need more than simple swings to counter me. He starts breaking out into complex combinations, flowing from one to the other. I block a left swing with my shin. It smarts, but it's enough to buy me time to hook my leg around his arm and vault over him, twisting the sword out of his hand. One down, one to go. I pull away, but he grabs my ankle and moves to sweep my other leg. Twisting, I manage to land on my hands again, and pry myself out of his grip. I recoil a leg and kick out, feeling it hit, before cartwheeling away, putting enough distance between us. I turn to see him nursing a side of his face that's already starting to swell a little.

"Shit," he mutters, breathing heavier. I'm panting a little myself. I realise that perhaps he's not used to fighting someone like me. Swordsmen are usually all strength and speed, no agility or creativity.

I throw him a grin, tap the ends of my shoes to the floor. "Too fast for you, moss head?"

His eyes flicker to mine. He takes in a deep breath, and clasps both hands on his remaining shinai, holding it out before him. When he exhales, his feet shift and his stance changes. He lowers his sword and points it behind him. I shove my hands into my pockets and try to suppress the shiver that tingles my skin. I have to berate myself a little. Zoro doesn't seem like just the average 'swordsman' I keep pinning him as. His stance, his style, the ability to switch and adjust in the middle of a fight. It's perfect.

I wipe the grin from my face. My cheeks are starting to ache. Bitting down on my cigarette long spent, I run at him. He takes three steps towards me and swings upwards. I duck and twist, aiming a roundhouse for his side. He blocks. With a flick of his wrist, he throws me back and lunges, swinging from up high. I sidestep, immitate his move with a high kick. He dodges and I miss him by mere inches. I see a flash of his teeth and he's either grinning or baring them. I don't have time to tell because he parries my kick, before grabbing my calf with a free hand and swiping low with the hilt of his shinai.

He strikes me at the back of my knee before I can react, and my back hits the ground with a thud. I regain my senses quick enough to counter with a sweeping kick. Zoro leaps in th air to dodge, raising his sword. I place my hands behind my head, curl my knees to my chest and spring both feet up in an upwards kick. I'm met with a satisfying smack, accompanied a deafening _thwack_ and a sudden pain blooming across the left side of my face.

I wobble slightly in the attempt to right myself. The ringing in my ears dull and I can hear the moss-head coughing. My eyes blur into focus and I see him crouched beside me, free hand clutching his middle. I must've knocked the wind out of him. My lips twitch into a smile that merges into a wince when I feel a sting on my forehead. I wipe at what I think is sweat, but when my hand comes away, it's smeared in blood.

"Ah, fuck."

It probably looks worse that it feels. That's what I always hated about head wounds. I glance back at the moss-head. For a second, I think I see genuine concern in his eyes. But even if he did show it, he's hiding it now with his normal, placid stare. I sigh, shake my head. That's how it is, huh? Fighting's the only way I can get to you?

"Call it a draw."

I notice his shoulders slacken. "A draw isn't a win."

"Then take it as a loss, mossy," I give him a smirk before turning to leave. "You loose and I win."

* * *

**Zoro**

I run our fight over in my head for the thousandth time that day. Where the hell did that scrawny cook learn to fight like that? He's different from anyone else I've sparred with. Like a mix of kickboxing, capoeira and undisciplined street-fighting. He's fast and favours feinting and counters. I couldn't predict his next moves until he was on the verge of making them.

Last night, I fought in the most heightened state of mind than I have in a long time. Every time the bruise on my face aches, my hands start twitching for a blade and my muscles tense in anticipation. The fire for a rematch burns in my gut. This time, I'm sure to win.

"R-roronoa-Sensei?"

I blink. My eyes focus on the boy in front of me, staring with wide, fearful eyes. I glance around at the other students in the gym. Ah, right. I was in the middle of teaching. I try to ignore the students staring at me like I'm a monster ready to slaughter a thousand villagers.

"Uh, as I said, countering can be tricky. You have to time it right."

My explanation gets cut off by the school bell. I try not to look too relieved. "We'll start working on countering next week. Practice your stances."

The boys don't move. I fold my arms and roll my eyes. "Dismissed."

A pattering of bare feet on hard wood echo around the gym and the children flee and silently as they can. Conversation only starts as soon as they pass the gym doors and I manage to catch a snippet or two.

"Is it just me, or did Sensei seem a lot more... scary today?"

A hum of agreement follows before the conversation is dulled by the gym doors swinging shut I roll my eyes and start putting away the equipment, rubbing a hand over the sore spot on my face. It didn't look as bad last night, although it hurt quite a bit, but when I got up this morning, the bruise on my face has turned a lovely violet shade. I'm also pretty sure it's in the shape of the bottom of that shitty cook's shoe. At least the swelling's gone down.

A quiet laugh behind me catches my attention. "It's like you're trying to give the children nightmares."

I turn around to see Tashigi making her way towards me. Her feet making soft thumps that barely echo in the large space. The way she could just sneak up on me like that always freaked me out.

"Tashigi-san," I bow my greetings out of formality. She returns the gesture before frowning at the bruise on my face. I'm never able to hold eye-contact with her for too long. Something about Tashigi doesn't sit well with me. I return to clearing up the gym.

"So, what happened to your face?" she asks with a sigh, folding her arms. "Like the kids need another reason to be afraid of you."

"It got bruised."

"Yes, I can see that. How did that happen? And how on earth did you manage to past school security looking like that?"

I shrug, keeping myself busy by stacking up the children's shinai on the rack. I hear movement behind me. Grabbing one of the shinai, I whip around just in time to block a downward slash from Tashigi. What is it with people attacking me without warning recently?

Tashigi watches the way my grip shakes a little as she pushes down. A smirk spreads on her features and she breaks the hold, taking a few steps back but still keeping a defensive stance.

"Your mind's somewhere else," she says.

I grunt. Ah well, I may as well humour her if she's asking for a fight. Lunging forward, I swipe experimentally at her. She parries easily. I feint, then move to slash across from her left. Tashigi spins out of the way, twirling around and catching my shoulder with the hilt of her shinai. We step away from each other. I frown. Since when has she bee able to turn a feint against me?

Her giggle pulls me out of my thoughts. "You know, you were always so hard to talk to. The only time you ever paid attention to anyone is if they had a sword in their hands."

I take a deep breath and change my stance, lowering my sword behind me. She takes up a defensive stance again. At least Tashigi's techniques haven't changed since our dojo days. She was always so constant, and that made her moves easy to predict. I step towards her, swinging upwards. She blocks, as I predicted, but then she ducks, parries my thrust to the right and drives forward. I blink just as the tip of her shinai stops right before the left side of my face. My eyes shift from the sword to Tashigi. Instead of the victorious grin I was expecting, her worried frown only deepens.

"And that's probably how you got that bruise on your face, right?"

I grumble, push the shinai away from my face and turn back to packing away the equipment. Tashigi helps me by picking up the other shinai left on the gym floor. "Whatever's eating at you must be pretty big," she continues. "You never let me win. You and Kuina both. You guys were such bullies to me back at the dojo."

The shinai rack clatters loudly as I slam it back into the storage cupboard. I throw a glare at Tashigi, my fists clenching beside me. "You said you wouldn't talk about her."

Tashigi's startled expression scrunches into as best a glare as she could muster. She never could look threatening to me.

"You never talk about anything!" she yells. "You're like a brick wall."

The frustrated sigh building at the back of my throat escapes as a growl. I turn away from her, pick up my duffle bag and head towards the doors.

"There are a people who can help bare your burdens if you just give them the chance, you know!" She calls after me. "People are built to support each other! That's what Sensei used to-"

The gym doors closing behind me cut off the rest of Tashigi's sentence. Idiot. What right does she have to just start bringing up the past like that? A part of me agrees that she does have point. The only times she can get a word out of me is if we spar, or if she talks about the dojo. Before I know it, streams of memories start flickering like a film reel in my head.

_People are built to support each other._

Yeah, she's right. That is what Koshiro-Sensei used to say. Not just to the class as a whole but exclusively to me.

_"You're always the lone ronin, Zoro."_ Sensei's voice echoes in my head from a distant time and place, in an old dojo way up in the mountains across the seas. _"But know that some battles are best fought with an ally."_

It strikes me as an odd time to suddenly remember that moment. But the words stick in my brain, echoing in my skull. Checking my watch, I decide it's best to just get changed at the mall, before I clock in for night duty at the guard house. When I leave the school, the Koshiro-Sensei's words merge into images of my fight with the cook last night. I run a hand over the bruise on my face. Damn cook got one up on me then, but next time I'll be ready. There's definitely going to be a rematch.


End file.
